A Precious Pearl in the Imperial City

Seeing that the Princess Consort of Chen was out of danger, Bai Shao could no longer hold on and slumped to the ground, sliding down the doorframe.

The Dragon Guard glanced at the Princess Consort, then at the ornately carved solid wooden stool she held high, before finally settling their gaze on the palace maids lying unconscious on the floor.

They feared that if they kept staring at the Princess Consort, that hefty wooden stool might come crashing down on their heads.

Before Bai Shao could muster the strength to point out the culprits, a round-faced maid turned her head and glared at her with hatred. "You dare betray your own master?!"

Bai Shao leaned against the doorframe, panting and laughing weakly, her damp hair clinging to her face, making her look utterly disheveled. "Though I am a servant, I still have a conscience."

She couldn’t choose her lowly birth, but she knew she was still human.

"Disloyal and shameless!" The round-faced maid had barely begun her tirade when a wooden stool suddenly blocked her view, dousing her fury like a blazing fire meeting a blizzard.

"Don’t throw stones when you live in a glass house," Jiuzhu said, displeased with the hypocrisy of these capital elites. "As a maid of Kirin Palace, you helped outsiders scheme against His Highness and me. Before cursing others, why not take a good look at yourself?"

"What do you know?!" The round-faced maid pulled a hairpin from her sleeve and lunged at Jiuzhu’s neck!

"Princess Consort of Chen!"

"Little Pig Ming—"

Prince Chen’s voice cut off abruptly as he watched the maid crumple to the floor, struck down by Jiuzhu’s stool. He silently climbed out of bed.

"Your Highness, wait!" A shadow guard steadied him. "Let us first verify these maids’ identities."

What he really wanted to say was: Don’t get too close to the Princess Consort—if that stool accidentally fell on the prince, they’d have a hard time explaining it to Emperor Longfeng.

"I don’t like fighting women," Jiuzhu said, tossing the stool aside. It rolled across the floor before coming to rest at the feet of another shadow guard, who subtly took half a step back.

"But if anyone tries to harm His Highness, they cease to be a man or woman in my eyes." She held out her hand. "Bring me rope."

Yang Yiduo emerged from the shadows. "Princess Consort, allow this lowly one to handle such rough work."

Jiuzhu nodded.

Watching Yang Yiduo swiftly bind the round-faced maid, she raised a brow. "Chief Steward Yang ties excellent knots."

Yang Yiduo offered an ingratiating smile. As the imperial guard assigned to Prince Chen by the emperor, he had failed to detect that this maid was a spy for Fourth Highness—a grave dereliction of duty.

The other maids had already been taken away to be searched by the matrons for hidden weapons or poisons.

Prince Chen bent down to pick up the overturned wooden stool, testing its weight with one hand before silently setting it back in place.

The remaining shadow guards pretended not to notice and knelt on one knee, cupping their fists. "We failed to protect Your Highness in time. We beg for your forgiveness."

Jiuzhu walked to Prince Chen’s side. "Your Highness, are you alright? Were you frightened?"

"I’m fine." He took her hand, still slightly dizzy—probably from being flung onto the bed so abruptly earlier.

Noticing Jiuzhu’s sidelong glance at the shadow guards, he explained, "These are the shadow guards Father assigned to us."

"Oh." Jiuzhu eyed the windows the guards had broken through and nodded with a peculiar expression.

So ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‍this was what shadow guards were like—not the elusive, invincible heroes from storybooks who appeared out of nowhere to defeat enemies before vanishing again.

The drawn-out "oh" made the guards bow their heads even lower.

"Your Highness," Yang Yiduo interjected, saving them, "the other maids carried no weapons. We’ve found no evidence linking them to the assassin."

"Good." Prince Chen studied the tightly bound, silent round-faced maid on the floor. "What about her?"

"Those selected for Kirin Palace undergo thorough background checks. Only those with spotless records are chosen." Yang Yiduo knelt in apology. "But this servant neglected his duties. I deserve punishment."

"If not for you two scheming against Fourth Highness, he wouldn’t have fallen so low!" The round-faced maid finally snapped out of her daze. "Fourth Highness has suffered enough—why must you humiliate him further by taking his consort away?!"

"So you’re avenging Fourth Highness?" Jiuzhu understood now. "You’d assassinate a prince just to ease his anger?"

The maid stayed silent, her face set in resolute determination. "I adore Fourth Highness, and he returns my feelings. I’d gladly die for him."

"Since you and His Highness share such deep love, surely you understand my heart." The maid closed her eyes. "I’ve betrayed my master. I have nothing more to say."

"We’re nothing alike. Even if I were willing to die for His Highness, he would never allow me to risk myself like this." Jiuzhu looked at her with pity. "If he truly loved you, how could he bear to put you in danger?"

Yang Yiduo turned his head slightly. Princess Consort, those words were a dagger to the heart.

"You’re lying! Fourth Highness does love me!" The maid’s eyes widened. He had praised her lovely eyes, confided his sorrows under the moonlight. A noble prince wouldn’t speak so tenderly to a lowly maid unless he cherished her.

She knew all his loneliness, his grief, his longing for his father’s affection.

Fourth Highness would recite poetry to her in the gentlest voice. Though she didn’t understand the verses, the elegance in his bearing was unforgettable.

Had it not been for Prince Chen, such a wonderful man wouldn’t have been overlooked by the emperor, lost his mother, or suffered humiliation in the palace.

"Fine. Suppose he does love you. Did you ever consider your family? The other maids who weren’t on duty—did you think they’d be implicated?" Jiuzhu crouched down, studying the maid’s face.

She knew this maid—Mu Mian, whose smile was bright and sweet.

"Assassinating a prince has far-reaching consequences. Your family, everyone in Kirin Palace, even those in the neighboring palaces—countless innocents will be punished." Jiuzhu sighed. "Even if His Highness and I show mercy, your family will be barred from respectable livelihoods for generations."

By the laws of the Great Cheng Dynasty, those convicted of grave crimes barred their descendants for five generations from imperial examinations and three generations from government-related work.

This was already lenient compared to the previous dynasty, where male relatives would have been branded and imprisoned.

Mu Mian lay motionless, silent. Whether she regretted her actions or simply refused to engage, no one could tell.

"Yang Yiduo, bring Bai Shao a cup of warm water with a pinch of salt and sugar." Jiuzhu walked to where Bai Shao still sat slumped. "Thank you, Sister Bai Shao, for saving my life."

"This lowly servant is unworthy of being addressed as Princess Consort." Bai Shao struggled to rise from the floor, but her legs—exhausted from running—felt as limp as overcooked noodles, utterly devoid of strength.

"In ancient times, even a single word of guidance could make one a teacher. You saved my life, so it’s only right I call you sister." Jiuzhu gently tucked Bai Shao’s damp hair behind her ear. "Sister, rest in Kirin Palace tonight. His Highness and I still have matters to attend to."

Bai Shao nodded and, supported by two palace maids, left the main chamber.

Prince Chen summoned two shadow guards. "Take this maid with you to Taiyang Palace."

Jiuzhu glanced at the shattered window, through which wind howled incessantly. "Don’t forget to fix the window."

"Understood," the guards swiftly acknowledged.

"Ahem." Jiuzhu smoothed her robes. "In the heat of the moment, I somehow managed to lift that stool. Now my arm aches terribly."

"Here, let me massage it for you." Prince Chen took her wrist, kneading it gently.

Neither Yang Yiduo nor the guards dared to inform Their Highnesses that the stool had actually been lifted with her other hand.

In Taiyang Palace, Emperor Longfeng gazed coldly at Yun Yanze kneeling before him. The icy disdain in his eyes dredged up memories of the prince’s childhood, when the imperial family had been confined to the old residence.

Years ago, while passing through the overgrown garden of the estate, he’d spotted the young Fourth Highness gnawing on a large peach. He’d meant to warn the boy about the snakes lurking in the grass—only for Yun Yanze to hide the fruit behind his back and claim he’d been catching insects.

A child of seven or eight lacked the guile to lie convincingly, yet the Emperor had feigned ignorance.

Now, the boy had grown into a man whose deceptions were masterful—and whose ambitions had swelled.

Between father and son, little remained to be said.

"Why bother maintaining this pretense of paternal affection?" Yun Yanze finally spoke. "Kill me, torture me—do as you please. For years, I’ve been nothing but a thorn in your side. With me gone, your precious son’s path to the throne will be clear."

"You were never an obstacle to Duqing," Emperor Longfeng replied calmly. "I never saw you as one."

"Of course not. In your eyes, who besides Yun Duqing could ever matter?" Yun Yanze sneered. "You imprisoned us in the palace, held a grand wedding here for him, even prepared Kirin Palace—reserved for the Crown Prince—just for him. Admit it. You mean to name him your successor."

"You’re correct. I do intend to make him Crown Prince." The Emperor’s serene, matter-of-fact tone choked Yun Yanze’s grievances in his throat, rendering further protests pointless.

With a derisive scoff, he fell silent.

"Your Majesty, disaster strikes!"

At the panicked shout, Yun Yanze’s face lit with savage glee. His burning eyes fixed on the Emperor, eager to witness the man’s devastation upon learning of his favored son’s demise.

"What happened?" Emperor Longfeng demanded as the eunuch scrambled in.

"Prince Chen, he—he—"

Yun Yanze could no longer contain his laughter.

"—he picked the ‘Black Dragon at Rest’ peony Your Majesty cultivated for Her Majesty the Empress and used it to adorn his consort’s hair!"

"Which peony did you say?" The Emperor’s carefully controlled composure shattered.

"The ‘Black Dragon at Rest,’" the eunuch stammered.

That peony had been nurtured by the Emperor himself, a gift intended for the Empress. Now it had been desecrated—and worse, the prince had reportedly complained its hues were "too dull" for his consort’s silken tresses. The eunuch wisely kept this detail to himself.

"Father, your son and daughter-in-law come to pay respects." Prince Chen strode in hand-in-hand with Jiuzhu, bowing cheerfully. "We wish you good health."

"Good health to Father." Jiuzhu curtsied, the peony trembling at her temple, its petals accentuating her delicate features.

The Emperor’s gaze flickered from the blossom to his son. He inhaled deeply. "What kind of ‘respects’ are you paying at this hour?"

This wasn’t a courtesy visit—it was a campaign to rob him of sleep.

Yun Yanze’s grin froze as he gaped at Yun Duqing, alive and unharmed.

Why? Why did he still breathe?

"We heard Fourth Brother was here, so we came to see him." Prince Chen adjusted the peony in Jiuzhu’s hair. "The blooms in Taiyang Palace’s garden caught my eye. Though this one’s a bit drab—‘Child’s Face’ or ‘Twin Beauties’ would suit our Little Pig Ming better."

The eunuch shot a desperate glance at the Emperor.

Fifth Prince, please—stop digging your own grave!

"So you admit it’s ugly, yet you picked it anyway?" The Emperor laughed mirthlessly.

Of all flowers, the brat had chosen precisely the one he’d painstakingly tended. This was deliberate provocation.

Prince Chen grinned. "But it’s special—raised by Father’s own hands."

The Emperor snatched up a memorial, poised to hurl it, then reconsidered lest the sharp edges cause injury. Instead, he crumpled two sheets of paper and lobbed them.

The paper balls bounced harmlessly off Prince Chen’s chest. He clutched the spot theatrically. "Father, must you wound me further? My heart already aches tonight."

Another paper missile followed. The Emperor clasped his hands behind his back, demeanor turning grave. "What transpired?"

"An assassin was subdued at Kirin Palace." Prince Chen’s eyes locked onto Yun Yanze.

The Fourth Prince met his gaze unflinchingly, lips curling. "How tenacious you are, Fifth Brother."

"Thanks to Father and my Little Pig, I’m thriving." Prince Chen looked down at him. "Apologies for disappointing you."

"You dared send assassins after your own brother?!" The Emperor raised a foot to kick.

"Father, allow your daughter-in-law." Jiuzhu hitched her skirts and delivered a mighty kick to Yun Yanze’s back.

Thud.

The onlookers watched as the Fourth Prince launched into the air before crashing forehead-first onto the floor with a sickening crack.

His hairpin clattered across the tiles, skidding to a halt against the wall.

"It’s my duty to share Father’s burdens." Jiuzhu smoothed her skirts and curtsied sweetly. "Was one kick insufficient?"

"Ah?" The ever-stoic, sagacious Emperor stood dumbfounded.

"I understand." Nodding, Jiuzhu raised her hem again.

"Little Pig, Little Pig!" Prince Chen caught her wrist. "Enough!"

Another kick might just kill him.